


Fox & The Blue Note

by Mulderist1013



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Experimental Style, F/M, Femme Fatale, POV Mulder, Short One Shot, Songfic, noir fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:04:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mulderist1013/pseuds/Mulderist1013
Summary: "So set ‘em up Joe, I’ve got a little story I think you should know."





	Fox & The Blue Note

The Blue Note

Washington, DC

1948

 

I opened the door to the bar and was greeted by a plume of swirling cigarette smoke. The way it curved and danced in the dim light I felt like I was treated to a peep show. I breathed deeply to savor the air second-hand then found a seat at the bar. My usual guy was there pouring beers and slinging spirits, he was quick to notice my arrival.

 

_ So set ‘em up Joe, I’ve got a little story I think you should know _

 

“Hey Mulder! What’ll you have?”

“Whiskey on the rocks.”  He bent down to grab a short tumbler glass then placed it in front of me, christening it with an amber colored pour. 

“That’s for the dame who broke your heart.” He said as he capped the bottle.

“She kicked it around the block in a nice pair of heels but it’s still ticking.”  I replied as I raised my glass then tipped it back with a slow purpose. The burn is what lets you know it’s not fooling around.  Tonight this particular brand of liquid fire licking my tongue and sliding down the back of my throat was dressed up with a hint of vanilla and honey.  I recall when I was shipped out to England at the start of the war and had my first taste of whiskey.  This cocky Yank almost hit the floor from the one-two punch of vapors and proof, much to the delight of my fellow pub patrons.   I quickly drowned that memory with another sip before it poured salt in a slow healing wound of those years spent in Europe. 

 

_ We’re drinkin’, my friend, to the end of a brief episode _

_ Make it one for my baby and one more for the road _

 

My fingers twisted the base of the tumbler on the bar as I thought about her.   

I was hired to investigate the murder of her sister, a truly senseless act that crowned a nice young woman with a halo far too soon.  She introduced herself as Dana Scully and was keen to call me Mr. Mulder at first.  I swatted the formality away like a buzzing fly and told her, “Mulder will do.”  I couldn’t help but study her as she spoke.  There was a remarkable level of composure and grace.  I accepted her case and sooner than I planned we accepted that we were attracted to one another.  

What had I gotten myself into?    

 

_ You’d never know it but buddy I’m a kind of poet _

_ And I’ve got a lot of things I’d like to say _

 

I truly couldn’t find enough adjectives to describe her beauty as she lay beside me in a brilliant afterglow.  Strands of copper slipped through my fingers, the smell of her delicate perfume penetrated the heavy cloud of arousal in the room.  I watched as she withdrew a cigarette and placed it to her lips, flicked a match, then pulled a quick breath before a long exhale.  She settled back by my side and I think I hit satisfaction so hard it knocked the wind out of me.  That smile sealed my fate. 

 

_ But this torch that I found it’s gotta be drowned or it soon might explode _

_ So make it one for my baby and one more for the road _

 

I finished off my glass and immediately ordered another. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was an experiment heavily inspired by "One For My Baby (And One More For The Road)"


End file.
